Opinion pieces, travel articles, places and people; lots of poetry; commentary on current events and history and whatever else shows up on the radar. Articles have been numbered (since Sept. 2004). Go n-eiri an t-adh leat.

Saturday, November 02, 2013

Nothing is over, not a thing,until time actually ceases.And as you stand below, waiting down in the streetlooking up, open-mouthed,wondering, speculating,nothing at all happens.nothing for 20, 30, 40 seconds,

and when such silent moments existin this flickering worldthere will be no further kisses, grunts, or gunshots.And soturn away, young Damian,turn aside from life and love

for love is a heavy thing to carrywith its sagging burden of lust,its well-fed writhing bodies,its financial speculations.Many unheard voices, crying out.mouth the hope, I hope I hopenever to do/see this again

and since the world is roundthose fat Chinese make it heavyliving, as they do on the edge,sucking up noodleas, failing to emigrate,and so they drag us down, the bastards,causing climate change.

I write letters to world leadersabout this, about other serious things,and they respond, ever sobrittle but quite polite, advising meto fuck off and go away. In Newcastlethe girls are the real problem on weekendsbut not as bad as in Dublin. There you needstrong arms & unfailing waves of charmto herd the howling hags homeward.